


Corpse Husband

by ValidEmail (orphan_account)



Series: Spooky Stories to Tell in the Dark [4]
Category: Corpse Bride (2005), Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Gay, M/M, Whizzer is Sassy, just the basic idea i guess, not really a parody of the corpse bride
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-21 22:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12467424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ValidEmail
Summary: On his wedding day, instead of getting married to a girl he's never spoken to, he's dragged into the Land of the Dead to be shown around by a bouncy, beautiful two-hundred year old corpse named Whizzer Brown - who promises he has another way out.Or, totally not a parody of Corpse Bride. I can't do parodies for the life of me. Happy Halloween!





	Corpse Husband

Marvin Gershwin sighed into his reflection, watching the lifeless expression that stared back at him. He’d be sealing his fate that day, marrying a woman he had barely given spoken a word to. He rubbed a hand against the side of his face, posture slowly slumping down more and more. He was sure Trina Macintosh was a sweet girl, of course, but that didn’t mean he was  _ overjoyed  _ to be marrying her. This relationship was going to be a dead-end, he could tell. Shaking his head at the mirror in front of him, he leaned down, and banged his head against the desk in front of him. 

 

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows,” Marvin practiced once more, pressing his entire head into his hands splayed out in front of him. “Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way through darkness. With this ring…” He pondered what the rest of the vows were, when a soft voice in the back of the dressing room spoke up.

 

“..I ask for you to be mine,” The voice whispered, awe clear. Whipping his head around, he saw a ghostly figure of a man perched upon his dresser, watching him with delighted amusement clear in his colorless eyes.

 

“You spoke those vows perfectly,” The apparition gushed. His hair was coiffed perfectly, not a strand out of place. His suit was neatly pressed and popping, despite the fact that none of him still held color, besides his bluish skin. Marvin was entranced. 

 

“Are you a figment of my imagination?” Marvin marveled, eyes widening slightly as he eyed the ghost’s pale fingers drifting over the indents of his underwear drawer.

 

“I’m anything you want me to be, sweetheart,” The ghost drawled, Marvin just now realizing that he was slightly firmer than any transparent dream he could have - the man in front of him was an undead corpse. But he didn’t smell like any corpse had ever been described to him. The scent of freshly picked  hyacinths and carnations wafted from his body, though he hadn’t moved from his spot on Marvin’s dresser. 

 

“Why do you smell like carnations?” Marvin asked rather dopily, too shocked to see a corpse sitting in his room to really think before he word-vomited all over his wedding tuxedo. The corpse lifted one impressed eyebrow.

 

“Yellow carnations, but you were getting there,” His companion complimented him, Marvin nodding dazedly. “They were part of my wedding bouquet. Well, it hadn’t been mine, exactly, it was to be the woman who’d I marry, but I was buried with them planted on top of my grave.” He turned, and Marvin saw a sprouting patch of both yellow carnations and hyacinths weave themselves through the man’s hair. 

 

“They’ve sprouted roots and dug down so deep they went into your hair,” Marvin realized with a tone of awe flooding through his voice, the corpse nodding his agreement as he turned back to face the groom-to-be.

 

“You’re a clever one, aren’t you?” The corpse tutted. “Such a shame you’re getting married off today. If my heart was still beating, I would have snatched you up before whoever the lucky woman is.” He spoke so blantly about his raging homosexuality that Marvin’s cheeks turned bright red at the mention of that.

 

“You’re…” He leant his voice down to a whisper, as to not attract any of his rampant family members overhear. “..Gay?” The corpse let out a bubbly little snort, his nose crinkling at the edges. Marvin realized his face was hotter than usual. 

 

“No one cares when you’re a corpse,” He told him honestly. “I know you are darling, that’s why I’m saddened by the fact that you kept putting air in your lungs. Though, it is difficult to find someone to hook up with. I’ve been extremely lonely for the past two hundred years or so.” Marvin gaped at him.

 

“Two hundred years? You don’t look a day over twenty-five!” He rushed, the corpse waving him off with a confident smile. 

 

“You flatter me, honey,” He smiled, no hint of blush upon his cheeks due to the fact that he was absolutely, positively dead. “I swear, I look better to other corpses. You see, we appear alive to other corpses rather than dead. To you, I must look dreadful. I suppose that’s what I get for staying in my coffin for so long.” He bit his tongue in order to stop himself from laughing at his own gay joke.

 

“What’s your name?” Marvin asked quickly. “I’m assuming you already know mine, as you’re probably here for something.” The corpse grinned toothily at him, due to the fact that a few of the teeth were missing.

 

“Well, according to this lovely town, I’m Micah Brown, the boy who drowned himself an hour before his arranged marriage was supposed to take place. But you can call me Whizzer. I prefer it,” He winked, then hopped from the dresser with a oof! noise. “I’m here to offer you another opinion out of this life of misery you’re about to sign yourself into.” Marvin leaned back against the wooden back of the chair, slightly terrified of the man approaching him.

 

“I’m not sure I’d like to see,” Marvin told him truthfully, Whizzer letting out the same bubbly laugh as before. He leaned against the vanity table Marvin was resting at, right beside the large mirror. It was so large Marvin could see just how deep the bags underneath his eyes went. 

 

“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” Whizzer smiled, before reaching out his hand and wiggling his fingers for Marvin to take. “Well, not unless you’d like me to.” Marvin, eyeing him nervously, reached up and placed his hand into Whizzer’s. Instantly, the corpse was cackling, and he tugged him up from his seating position. 

 

“Hold on tight!” Whizzer ordered him, Marvin attempting to remove his hand from his strong-iron grip. “You can get very easily lost in the Land of the Dead.” He climbed up onto the vanity table, and shoved himself through the mirror. Whizzer disappeared, leaving Marvin standing in his bedroom, Whizzer’s arm still holding onto his. He waited there for a moment, and then there was a sharp yank from the other side. Marvin was sent spinning into the Land of the Dead, falling downwards in a spiral, Whizzer’s laughter ringing up from somewhere below his feet. 

 

They landed in a patch of dark, black grass, the dew sprinkling all over Marvin’s tux. Whizzer stood above him, and held out one hand, blue and grotesque. Marvin still took it thankfully, pulling himself up to peer out into the land below him. They had landed on a cliff, the rocks purple and choppy. There was a small village he could clearly see in the distance that looked suspiciously like the one he was from. 

 

“Welcome to the Land of the Dead, my new friend,” Whizzer spread out his arms in front of him, grinning toothily at the sight of his home. Marvin noticed there was a worm weaving it’s way through Whizzer’s front teeth, due to the fact that he had been dead two hundred years already. The sight made Marvin shiver slightly.

 

“Why’d you bring me here?” Marvin questioned tentatively, Whizzer slinging an arm around his shoulders and pressing their sides together. The smell of flowers was almost overwhelming, the shorter scrunching up his nose to avoid the buds hatching from the back of Whizzer’s head. 

 

“To show you what your second option is,” Whizzer explained, starting to get them to head down a rickety set of stairs. The wood was cracked and broken, the moss crawling up the sides evident. Marvin eyed the unknown creatures slithering through the cracks with caution. “After all, this place is certainly one of unfulfilled promises.” At this, Whizzer’s face darkened uncharacteristically. He continued to lead both of them down the steps into the village, where there were candles in every window and a gaggle of both skeletons and corpses wandering the streets. It was so vibrant compared to Marvin’s city that it shot a pang of longing through his wildly beating heart. 

 

They entered a bar, one that was packed. The minute Whizzer stepped through the door, everyone cheered at the sight of their friend. He grinned devilishly, and thrust Marvin into view of the masses. The crowd halted instantly, Marvin stumbling to regain his step.

 

“Whiz picked up a breather!” One of the corpse women beside him marveled, reaching out to drag a hand across his cheek. Marvin flushed, and staggered backwards. Whizzer batted the corpse’s hand away with flickering annoyance, before wrapping an arm around Marvin’s waist protectively.

 

“Get your own live bait,” He snapped, baring his teeth as a dog might. The girl rolled her eyes good naturedly at the other corpse, and winked over in Marvin’s direction. One of her eyes fell onto the ground, a maggot crawling out of the hole it left. Marvin felt faint. Whizzer directed their steps towards a bar in the back of the club, the undead riling up once more. The grip on his waist, the skeletal fingers drifting across his pale skin, caused him to shiver in the hot air of the small room.

“Ah, finally picked up someone your own age, I see?” A bushy, blond corpse joked, the woman practically a skeleton. Her skin was flaking off, one eye missing, leaving just a hole in the top of her face. Her black clothes matched with the atmosphere almost perfectly. Whizzer reached over, and pecked her on the cheek. His grip loosened on Marvin’s waist, and the man scurried away. “Like a tiny, caged mouse.” Whizzer laughed cheerily, the sound ringing in Marvin’s ears. If he didn’t look at the other man, he could imagine him to be alive, and not just recently out of the grave. Whizzer shot out a hand to grab the back of Marvin’s pants before he could get away, and dragged him back to the bar. Motioning for him to sit down on one of the stools, Marvin did so, with an edge to it.

 

“Don’t worry, Delia, this time he’s younger,” Whizzer promised her, the bartender twisting to already start on their drinks, as though she could read the corpse’s mind. “I made sure of that. We need fresh faces in here anyway.” 

 

“Cordelia died about four hundred years ago,” Whizzer told him, like Marvin had politely questioned, instead of just staring at the scenery around him with a look of terror, mixed with interest. “She slit her own throat after her sister was thrown into the river, rocks tied to her feet, in an effort to prove she was a witch.”

 

“Fun times,” Cordelia reminisced, the beer almost overflowing. She realized at the last second, and pulled away the two cups from the oozing black substance. Pushing them in front of the duo, she pumped Whizzer’s shoulder with a fist, and drifted away. Marvin noticed that there was a gaping wound in her neck he hadn’t seen before, most likely from the knife she had pulled against her once fruitful skin.

 

“I have to admit, I spent almost no time in the human world,” Whizzer started once they were left mostly alone. “But the Land of the Dead is just so much better, you won’t believe the kinds of stuff we can do here. No pollution, no judgement.”

 

“I like being alive,” Marvin protested, Whizzer raising an unamused eyebrow in his direction. “I know I’m getting married to a woman I’ve never met, but I like feeling my heartbeat underneath my skin!”

 

“What’s the point of having a heartbeat when no one is there to listen with you?” Whizzer asked him, the question confusing Marvin just slightly. He was still attempting to wrap his mind around the fact he was having a conversation with a corpse. In an instant, Whizzer was leaning over, and pressing his skeletal ear to Marvin’s chest. The human took in a sharp intake of breath in surprise, hand lifting from the bar as the corpse pressed closer. Whizzer seemed to be lulled by the quick pace of his heart, Marvin slumping back underneath the growing weight of the corpse. After a moment of peace, he snapped out of the daze he had gotten stuck in, and straightened himself. Whizzer fiddled with his collar, watching Marvin in a way no one ever had before.

 

“That was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard,” He whispered, lips pressing together softly. “I haven’t heard a heartbeat since the night I drowned. They’ve become quicker, is that right?” Marvin swallowed, calming himself down from that moment, and shook his head.

 

“That happens whenever I’m nervous,” Marvin told him. “It’s a normal reaction to situations-” Whizzer ignored what he had attempted to say after the first sentence, a wide grin spreading across his face wickedly. 

 

“You’re nervous around me?” Whizzer repeated, reaching out a hand to drag it down Marvin’s coated arm. He watched the bony fingers trail the creases in his jacket with a look of panic. “I’m  _ flattered.”  _ At this, Whizzer let out a wild chuckle. He turned back to the bar, and in one swipe, chugged down his drink. The sweetness from the earlier moment was gone. There was a patch in his neck where there was no skin, and Marvin could see the liquid drain with a wrinkling of his upper lip. 

“Try it!” Whizzer bumped his shoulder with Marvin’s, gesturing to the beer in front of him. “If you’re choosing to stay alive, then you might as well do everything you can in the Land of the Dead.” Marvin eyed him suspiciously, and when Whizzer gave him nothing more than an innocent smile, he lifted the drink to his lips. 

 

Over what felt like the next six hours Marvin spent draped across Whizzer, who dragged him about town, showing him the sights of the Land of the Dead. He was introduced to multiple skeletons, and a corpse that practically broke his hand from shaking it so much. She seemed entranced by his skin, as Whizzer also was. The beer had done something to calm his spirits, just slightly. He expected that’s why Whizzer had wanted him to drink it. When all was said and done, Whizzer brought him back up to the top of the cliff to reenter the human world, a sad little quirk of a smile upon his lips.

 

“Are you sure you’d like to go back?” Whizzer questioned him, a hint of longing flooding through his voice. Marvin touched his hand carefully, no longer afraid of the boniness of it all.

 

“I can’t stay here as a human, can I?” He replied, and stepped away. Whizzer took in a deep breath, and rushed forwards, pressing a quick kiss to Marvin’s stunned cheek. He pulled away, and tapped his lips.

 

“Your skin is so soft,” Whizzer chuckled awkwardly, Marvin watching him carefully. He knew what he had chosen, now. Whizzer waved his hand, and a portal appeared beside them. Taking Marvin’s hand, he directed him into the portal, spinning down and down and down. 

 

As Marvin tumbled out into his dressing room, Whizzer no longer beside him, the cold atmosphere overtook him more than it had prior. Wandering into the hallway, he passed a maid, who greeted him cheerfully. He ignored her. Peering out the window of the first floor, he wondered if Whizzer’s grave was somewhere nearby. 

 

Remembering something, he ducked from the house, stealing away into the growing night. Trudging down a wooded path, he saw the flowers resting beside the road, familiar yellow carnations and hyacinths twisting together. Plucking one up from the bunch, he placed it behind his ear. Carrying on, he promised silently to return to the grave’s owner at one point in time.

 

While his family rushed to find him after they discovered his dressing room to be empty, Marvin was stood at the lake’s end, looking down from over the bridge and imagining what Whizzer had done in his situation. Leaping from the side of the bridge, glancing backwards before plummeting into the water. He remembered Whizzer’s somehow warm touch, though he had died two hundred years before. Hopping up onto the fencing, he took in a deep breath of the air cutting around him, and let himself fall.

 

“For a second there, I really thought you’d stay alive,” Whizzer’s familiar voice drifted into his ears, and Marvin awoken back onto the cliff. There, in front of him, was the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. There was a crown of flowers resting atop the brown hair, his skin no longer blue, but tan as the sand itself. He was human, and young, and flowing with life. Marvin grinned, and took his outstretched hand with a zel. He had no clue how to accept the fact that his life had changed so dramatically in a matter of a day, but Marvin guessed he had all of eternity to figure it out. 

 

_ “Well, I guess I’m bringing the stories to a close,” Charlotte told them apologetically. “I can’t feel my feet, and I’m wearing boots.” Whizzer shrugged, and then glanced up towards the sky, before shivering dramatically. _

 

_ “I’ll make everyone hot cocoa as long as you guys promise not to insult it,” He offered, everyone instantly leaping up. Marvin stood up last, though, and wrapped an arm around Whizzer’s waist. The six trudged back to Whizzer’s house, their fire dying out behind him. The night sky surrounding them, Whizzer could swear he saw the glint of a ghostly horse watching them through the trees of the small forest that was Whizzer’s backyard, but he chalked it up to paranoia. At least, hopefully it was paranoia.  _


End file.
